


Roses

by soullistrations



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Gen, Jopper (Pre-Relationship), Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 18:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15869103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soullistrations/pseuds/soullistrations
Summary: The scene that greets him is a familiar one: Jonathan is at the stove, working on dinner. Will and El are at the kitchen table, their heads almost touching as they huddle over El’s left arm. Will is holding El’s hand upturned in his own, coloring something on her palm. Jim closes the front door gently and saunters over to investigate.“What is it this time?” Jim asks.El looks up with a grin and says, “Roses.”





	Roses

It’s 6:30 when Jim finally gets to the Byers’ house. He knocks twice and calls, “It’s me,” and with a click, the door swings open.

The scene that greets him is a familiar one: Jonathan is at the stove, working on dinner. Will and El are at the kitchen table, their heads almost touching as they huddle over El’s left arm. Will is holding El’s hand upturned in his own, coloring something on her palm. Jim closes the front door gently and saunters over to investigate.

“What is it this time?” Jim asks. 

El looks up with a grin and says, “Roses.”

And so it is. Thick black stems wrap around El’s forearm, weaving under and over green leaves and red petals. The occasional thorn punctuates the otherwise fluid drawing, and in El’s palm, an enormous rose blooms. Will is hard at work shading the petals, and doesn’t even look up when Jim whistles in appreciation.

“That’s incredible, Will,” he says, ruffling the boy’s hair. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

Will keeps his eyes on the rose, but his eyes crinkle and his cheeks grow pink. “Thanks,” he says, then glances slyly at El. “Thorns are bitchin’.”

Over by the stove, Jonathan snorts loudly, and Jim rolls his eyes. El was going to have all of her friends saying that by the time summer rolled around.

Will puts down his marker and squeezes El’s hand. “All done.” 

El lifts her hand up to the kitchen light, staring with wide eyes as she wiggles her fingers. “It’s perfect,” she breathes.

El’s eyes are wide and her mouth slightly agape, her face so full of unimpeded wonder that Jim forgets to breathe for a moment. Before El, it was so easy to miss these moments of beauty. But now, every time El stops and stares at the sunlight bleeding through the trees by their cabin, or an old photograph, or a woman carrying a baby in the park, or one of Will’s weekly arm drawings, Jim has to thank whatever god is out there that, after everything, his daughter can still see the beauty in the world around her.

A click breaks Jim out of his reverie, and he, Will, and El look over to the stove to see Jonathan lowering his camera. The teen flushes a bit at everyone’s gaze, but simply says, “It was a good photo.” El smiles and holds out her arm. Jonathan takes a couple pictures of the front and back of El’s forearm, then her, then her and Will. Things are just starting to get silly, Will making a face and threatening to push El off her chair, when a sizzle from the stove gets everyone’s attention. “Shit,” Jonathan mutters, and trots back over to the stove.

Jim clears his throat. “I think that’s our cue, El,” he says, patting his pockets for his keys. “Let’s get out of these boys’ hair.” Jim pats Jonathan on the back with a “thanks for watching her,” and starts to head toward the door, but El doesn’t budge. Instead, she and Will stare at each other for a moment, having some sort of wordless conversation, and then El turns abruptly in her chair.

“Jonathan made dinner,” she announces. Her face is open and pleading, and Will mirrors her expression. Jim looks between them, faintly wondering if they’re up to something. Glancing at Jonathan gives him no clues, because the teen is fully facing away from him now, bent studiously over the pots on the stove.

“And?” Jim says.

“And,” Will says, exchanging glances with El again, “we have enough for you and El, too. And we want you to stay for dinner.” Twisting fully around in his chair, Will says, “Right, Jonathan?” Jim doesn’t have to see Will’s face to know he’s directing his pleading expression toward his big brother now. 

Oh yeah. They’re definitely up to something.

Jonathan keeps his back to them all, but his head twitches in their direction as he glances over his shoulder. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and then back, and then lets out a breath, seeming to make a decision. “It’s spaghetti,” he says, turning back to the pot. “If you want to stay.”

Jim looks back down at El, and is unsurprised to see her in full puppy dog mode, staring intently at him through her lashes. “Let’s eat some spaghetti,” Jim declares, clapping his hands. As if on cue, Will and El hop up from the table and hurry to the living room to grab an extra chair for the table.

It isn’t long before Joyce hurries in the front door with an apology for her lateness. She says hi to Jim, ‘ooh’s and ‘ahhh’s over El’s decorated hand, hugs Will, and shoos Jonathan away from the stove with a kiss to his cheek. Will and El finish setting the table, and they pull Jonathan into a seat before sitting down on either side of him. Jim gets some plates from the cabinet, carrying them over to the counter next to the stove. He leans over Joyce to sniff at the skillet of noodles and sauce, and hums happily. “Smells good,” he says with a grin.

Joyce smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank Jonathan for that,” she replies. “I just finished it off.” Jim straightens up, looking over at the kids to thank Jonathan, and three heads quickly turn away from where he and Joyce are standing by the stove. Well, two heads. El keeps right on staring at Jim and Joyce. 

Jim holds up a plate for Joyce, and she piles spaghetti onto it. “Don’t look now, but our kids are staring at us,” Jim mutters between his teeth. Joyce looks up at him, a question in her eyes, and Jim shrugs, holding out another plate. “I think they’re plotting something.”

Joyce raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What?”

Jim shrugs. “World domination? Who really knows these days?” Joyce laughs, and the two of them finish plating the spaghetti. The kids get up and grab plates, and sit down in their seats, leaving two next to each other for Jim and Joyce.

As Jim sits down under the watchful eye of his daughter, he thinks he has some idea of what they’re plotting.

——————————————————————————————-

After dinner, Jim and El thank the Byers for the meal. El hugs all three Byers, and Jim ruffles Will’s hair and hugs Joyce. He shakes Jonathan’s hand, thanking him for watching El and making dinner. Jonathan nods, rubbing the back of his neck and not quite meeting Jim’s eyes.

And then, it’s time to go home. As they drive down the dark road away from the Byers residence, Jim can feel El’s eyes on the side of his face. He glances over with a raised eyebrow, and says, “Dinner was nice.”

El smiles and nods in agreement, and Jim can’t help but smile, too. Dinner was nice–the spaghetti was good, the conversation was easy, and there was something…just right about sitting around the table with the Byers. They’d shared stories of their day, and when Jim told them about the “special case” Callahan was working on, Joyce had leaned over her spaghetti, laughing so hard she had to grab his forearm. Even now, a lightness fills his chest as he remembers the expression on her face.

The streetlights of Main Street flash yellow inside their car, and El leans forward to put her left arm on the dash. The roses glow orange-black-orange-black as they drive. They stop at a red light, and El brings her arm back, cradling it in her lap. The sight of her leaning over her arm reminds Jim of the way he found her two hours ago, forehead to forehead with Will Byers over their kitchen table.

“You and Will became friends fast,” Jim comments.

El doesn’t look up, but she nods. “He’s the same.” 

“Same as what?”

“Same as…” El trails off. She closes and opens her hand, taking the rose in her palm from bud to bloom. “We both faced the shadow monster,” she finally says.

Jim nods, and a comfortable silence fills the car as they continue home.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on here for years, but this is the first work I've posted! It's inspired by a post by formerlyjannafaye on tumblr.


End file.
